


New Neighborhood

by 8ad_Wolf



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Humanstuck, Multi, Slow Build, almost everyone is in journalism too, i like that headcanon, i think i was going to go somewhere with this but i don't remember where, just wait
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 07:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5197769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8ad_Wolf/pseuds/8ad_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John just moved to a new school last week, and even though he definitely has friends, he thinks something is missing still.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Neighborhood

“So why are you in here?” the nurse asks. Her name is Miss Peixes, and she intimidates you more than a little.

“Uh, I guess my nose was dry, so it started bleeding,” you tell her. You gesture to the bloody tissue you’re holding to your nose.

“I see.” She types something into her computer. After a few seconds she stops and looks at you. You glance at the fish tank and then back at her.

“Well, are you gonna sit?” she snaps.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry.” You sit across from the tank and grab a couple more tissues from the box on her desk.

It takes maybe ten minutes for it to slow down enough to grab another batch of tissues. “So, kid,” Miss Peixes says, leaning on her desk. “Haven’t seen you around, you new?”

“Yeah, I got here like last week.” Your voice is a little weird (you’re holding your nose, you would be confused if it didn’t sound weird?) but she seems to understand you.

“Where from?”

“Washington. It’s really different here, heh. Could you hand me one of those?”

She holds up a copy of the paper you were looking at. “This? Why, are you-?”

“Nonono,” you assure her. “I just want something to read while I’m sitting here.” Miss Peixes hands you the paper, which is apparently about getting help for abuse. “Oh,” you says softly.

She laughs. “Alright, name and class?”

“Um, John Egbert, I have first hour right now. It’s band with Mrs… er…”

“Nah, I got it.” She types some stuff in again. “Okay, tell me when you’re done.”

A guy walks through the door. He’s short and skinny and blonde, and he looks hurt.

“Hey, it’s me,” he tells Peixes.

“Hey. How are things going?” she asks.

The guy shrugs. The nurse leads him into a back room, and you try not to eavesdrop. You can hear them talking quietly.

“When are you planning on telling someone besides me?” she asks softly.

“My other brother Dirk knows, but he’s kind of part of it too,” the other guy says.

“Tell the principal.”

“What the hell is he going to do? English hates my guts.” There’s crinkling, like they’re opening something.

“You can always stay with- holy shit, that’s huge.”

You’re starting to get a little scared; you wonder who they’re talking about.

“Yeah, he got out the swords again,” the boy says barely loud enough for you to hear.

“Alright, I can get some stuff to put on that, how’s that sound.”

“Thanks.”

The room is quiet again.

“Thanks, Miss Nurse,” he says after a minute. There’s a thump, and you’re assuming he just hopped off of the table.

“No problem. Dave, right?”

“Yeah. I better go, the bell’s about to ring.” The guy (Dave?) comes out of the back room and stands in front of the desk. He gives you a quick look, and your face goes red. He smirks.

“I’m Dave,” he tells you. “You’re John, right?”

“Yes? Yes,” you say.

“We have band together. You’re a percussionist?”

“You’re the labbie! You’re in the back room a lot, right?” You knew he looked familiar.

“Yep. Are you in yearbook too? I think there’s a John in there.”

“Yeah. Oh, you’re the photo guy.”

“Photo guy, huh?” He does the smirk again. “That’s me. One of the head editors. Are you a designer or a writer?”

“Designer, Rose Lalonde is my writer. Do you know her?”

“Unfortunately, yeah. We’re cousins. What-”

“Guys,” Miss Peixes says. “You can meet each other in a minute. Egnerd, how’s your nose?”

“I think it stopped,” you say. You pull the tissue from your nose and look at it. “Uh, could you hand me another couple of Kleenex?”

Dave hands some to you. You wipe your nose a little. “Yeah, it’s done,” you announce.

“Alright, I’ll get your passes ready.” She starts typing in her computer. You mumble something about washing your hands and slip away to the nurse’s bathroom.

When you get back, you notice Dave left. Miss Peixes is talking to another teacher about something, so you take your pass off the top if the fishtank and head to class.

* * *

“Rose, do you have the thing yet? It was supposed to be done yesterday.” You turn around fron your computer and look at Rose, who’s sitting directly behind you. She’s typing something really quickly. **  
**

“Yes, I just need a quote from one more person. If you have their number, that would be great.”

It’s Wednesday, which means you have to stay after school with your newspaper class. You’re working on a spread with Rose, the writer you’ve been paired up with for the year. The story’s a little boring, it’s about a foreign exchange student (Jake English, you think. He has an odd accent that makes you think he’s from the UK) and how’s he’s adapting to life here.

Rose’s phone rings, and she says, “Oh, hold on, it’s him. Yes, hello?” She picks up her phone and her notebook and pen and goes over by the darkroom door to talk.

You turn back to your design spread. It’s frustrating you, but you think you almost have it. You struggle with the alignment of the pictures (who knew Dave would be the one providing the pictures?) and glance at Rose as she sits in the chair next to you.

“Was it Jake?” you ask.

“Yes, actually. I got a few more quotes, and I need to put them in the story, and we should be good.” She sounds really pleased with herself.

“Nice! Hey, do you think this looks good here?” You tilt the computer toward her.

“I think it looks crooked,” she muses.

“Aw, what?”

“Did you see the little red line underneath it?”

“Yeah? Wait, no, that was for another one. You were right.” You feel your face going red. “I’m pretty sure I’m the only sophomore who doesn’t know how to work this.”

Rose brushes her curly hair out of her eyes. “I don’t know how to work it,” she says.

“No, you’re a writer, I meant like of the designers.”

“I see.” She turns around and gets her laptop and settles in next to you. “Give me… ten minutes. We’ll be able to leave before five.”

“What? Oh. Five o’clock.” You roll your eyes at yourself and push your glasses up your nose.

You and Rose work on the article for another forty five minutes, and you’re not getting in your dad’s car until 5:30.

“How was worknight?” he asks.

“It was alright. My writer and I finished a whole page.”

“Of writing?” Dad starts the car and glances out your window. “Is that your writer?”

You follow his gaze. Dave’s sitting on the ledge of the flowerbed. He’s looking down at his phone, and he has sunglasses sitting on top of his head.

“No, but he’s my friend.” You roll down the window and say loudly, “Hey, Dave, right?”

Dave jumps and looks up. You think you see a black eye before he slips his shades down. “Yeah, what’s up?” he calls back.

“Do you want a ride?”

“Nah, my brother is driving me. He’s finishing up a robotics meeting I think.”

“Oh. Okay.” You’re both quiet. “Um, have a good rest of your day then.”

“You too. Thanks.” He looks back down at his phone, and you roll your window back up.

“Who’s that?” your dad asks as you pull out of the parking lot.

“That’s Dave, he’s in photo and he’s the labbie in my band.”

“Fun.”

You drive in silence for a bit. Every once in a while, you glance at your dad. He’s got his signature hat on, covering most of the hair on top of his head. You never realized how old he looks. You kind of see him as someone who doesn’t age; he’s always out doing something, whether it’s making runs to the grocery store for cake mix, going to work wherever it is he works, pulling pranks on you and Jane, or even putting up Christmas lights in June (you doubted him, but he went up and did it anyway. Dad, why).

When you pull into the driveway, Jane’s trying to pull open the garage door. You and your dad stare at her for a second, and then your dad gets out of the car and says, “Jane, what are you doing?”

“My garage button broke,” she says. “I dropped it and it fell apart.”

“Why do you need to open the garage?” you ask. You get out of the car and grab your stuff.

“My car is in there.”

“Dude, I could press Dad’s button and you could go in and open it from inside.” Your dad nods and points to you.

“Could you please?” Jane looks out of breath. You barely resist rolling your eyes just because Dad’s right next to you.

You press Dad’s garage button, and Jane thanks you. You say “you’re welcome” quickly and head inside. It’s been kind of a long day, and your head hurts, and you decide you deserve a nap.

Once you’re in your new room, you drop your stuff and fall onto the bed. It creaks, and you move around until you’re comfortable under the blankets. You fall asleep quickly, and it’s the best sleep you’ve had in a while.

**Author's Note:**

> (man I really hope I'll actually finish this one)


End file.
